


For the Little Dhampir

by Dance_Elle_Dance



Category: Vampire Academy Series - Richelle Mead
Genre: Angst, Book 4: Blood Promise, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/Dance_Elle_Dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each night, he lifted a shot - apple, because it reminded him of her - to his lips, said a silent prayer for her to come home safe, and hoped that one day she'd be in his arms. (Originally posted on 5/28/10.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Little Dhampir

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post of my first Vampire Academy fanfic. I really liked the AdrianRose ship back in the day, before AdrianSydney existed and converted me something fierce. Please enjoy!

He wasn't what anyone would call a hopeless romantic.

However, where Rosemarie Hathaway was concerned, he found himself being just that. He found himself changing, bit by bit. Willing, and sometimes unable to keep said changes from happening. This part made him feel different from his usual playboy self, but sometimes - most of the time - he welcomed the change.

The changes he put forth on his life were more than remarkable. He didn't change his drinking or smoking - he desperately _needed_ those to keep him sane - but little alternations in his personality. He would smile more. He would try to help people out more. Still, he was a little out-there to her, but he alluded that to spirit. Whenever he thought of her, it was almost like he didn't _need_ the drinking or cigarettes to keep the effects of spirit at bay.

He had never met a girl like her. Not one that called to him like she did. Her, with her aura of growing darkness. It troubled, as well as intrigued him. Fascinated, and yet frightened at the same time.

Maybe that was why he was so enamored with her.

Or maybe it was something else. Her fiery personality, her confident aura. The constant assault of witty comments and the look of those powerful, dark eyes underneath long lashes. That curtain of dark hair that seemed to want him to place his fingers in it and pull. Her laugh, that of which was like something rough and wild. Untamed.

Just like her whole persona.

Now, she was out there, being strong and radiant like the warrior she was. She was out in the world without a seeming rhyme or reason. But he knew otherwise.

He had seen the way that she and her teacher had interacted. It was no secret that they loved each other, and while it hurt him to realize this, it also spurred him forward. It made him want to try his best to be there for her after his death. Even though he knew Rose would never be the same.

She had asked him for money to go on a "trip." He complied without any shred of difficulty, because of what she had bribed him with.

_A chance._

Rose really did have him wrapped around her strong fingers, or fist for a better choice of words.

Then, she was gone, after a fleeting promise that she'd give him a shot if she came back.

_If._

But he knew that was a very slim _if._

Rose had gone to kill Dimitri. That, again, was no secret. At least, not to him.

She had gone to kill the Strigoi she loved.

Lissa had made some slight hints on the relationship between Rose and Dimitri. It was a strange thing, hearing that come from her lips. But it was an even stranger thing to hear the dark thoughts, the utter meanness that came from the blonde Moroi's lips. It made him wary, made him want Rose's return that much more. If not for his sake, then for the one she was shadow-kissed by.

There were many strange things going on here lately, and somehow he felt as if Rose was here. If he could ask Rose for help, or _something_ , then she would be able to help them all. Lissa was her best friend, that is. And he thought he was close to her, though she would never admit it.

He also hated the way Avery looked at him. All his thoughts would be on Rose, as they usually were. Or he would be in the middle of teaching Lissa something important, and then she'd be there, with a wine glass in one hand and a tumbler of vodka in the other, giving him a strange look and he would suddenly be wondering why he was even bothering thinking about Rose in the first place.

When he was away from the new girl, however, things returned to normal, and he would resume his ritual before he went to bed.

Each night, he lifted a shot - apple, because it reminded him of her - to his lips, said a silent prayer for her to come home safe, and hoped that one day she'd be in his arms.

It was something silly, but it was something that gave him hope.

The very action would give him hope that she would come back, simply because he willed her to. Maybe the powers of spirit were that strong. Maybe if he tried just a bit longer, then he could have her back with them, and she would be helping them out with this whole situation.

There seemed to be a whole array of problems, none of which he could fix himself. He had no control over Lissa, or the strange things he was feeling for Avery. It both felt very foreign, very strange, to feel something so strong for Rose, and then feel something for the cheaper version of her. It wasn't even the same. It was as if his feelings had been shifted and muffled and twisted to fit Avery's whims.

But she _wasn't_ his little dhampir.

No matter how much she batted her blue-gray eyes, no matter how she flipped her long hair, none of that would hold a candle in his mind to the dhampir who had stolen his heart - and ran out of the country with it.

He just wished she would come back, and he could hug her - without getting kicked in the face - and laugh with her.

Looking out the window, at the faint dusting of snow on the grounds that was beginning to melt, Adrian sighed and poured himself a shot of the same apple stuff that he loved so much. The drink that reminded him of the dark haired dhampir.

He took a swig of it, downing it all in one gulp, feeling it burn slightly as it trailed down his throat, and then the sweet aftertaste came.

No wonder the drink reminded him of Rose.

His green eyes took on a wondering look as he gazed outside at the dark night. It had started to rain, a faint sprinkling, but his eyes could catch it without problem.

He poured himself another shot, lifted it to his lips, and never took his eyes off of the window.

In his mind, however, he pictured the very object of his affections, standing with him in the room, her dark hair and eyes luminous, and her full mouth twisted into a confident and warm smile.

The tilted the shot glass back and downed it without any other thought other than her, her, _her._

_For you, little dhampir._


End file.
